Fangrlz: Deleted Scenes
by Destiny's Hand
Summary: Here be little snippets from Fangrlz -- some silly, some serious -- that did not make it into the final cut.
1. Goosfraba

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the _Naruto_ characters or places. I only own the characters from Earth/our world. Even then, they are based on actual friends of mine. By this time, though, I think it's safe to say that they've developed into characters of their own.

**Author's Note:** Here's the first of the "deleted scenes" for _Fangrlz_ -- little extras, some silly some serious, that occasionally pop into my head but don't fit in smoothly anywhere. Most of them will be very short -- this one's not even 1,000 words without the disclaimer/author's note. Others might be longer depending on the idea. Heck, there might even be instances where people other than the girls narrate. I don't really know. They're just extra fluff that I'll update when they come to me and that hopefully will keep you all happy until I get _Fangrlz II_ up and kicking. They won't be in any particular order, but you should be able to figure out where they fit in by the "chapter" number. This particular one takes place during the party. I hope you all like it.

Chapter 69.1: Goosfraba

SAM

For some reason, people are kind of avoiding Juugo tonight -- the _Naruto_ people, at least, which makes up the great majority. I mean, there are only five of us in any other category. At first, I really don't think that they're _avoiding_ him, but as the night goes on, it becomes rather obvious (to me, at least). I guess his size is rather intimidating. I mean, he's a freaking giant! Add that to the fact that he's known to go into random berserker rages with no apparent reason or warning, and you've got yourself just cause, I guess, to keep your distance from the guy.

It doesn't seem to be bothering Juugo, though. He actually looks pretty content watching everyone else enjoy themselves. Really, I don't even know _why_ he's here. I mean, he's my friend and all, but I don't know if he's ready to interact with large crowds yet. Maybe it's part of the healing process. Who knows? I'm definitely glad, though, that he's here (and that he scares people).

Why? Because he's the perfect escape route.

Clutching my glass of punch (or whatever it is . . . tastes punch-ish), I glance around me to make sure the coast is clear. Once I'm sure there's no threat, I start to weave toward the strawberry blonde. _You can do this, Sam. Almost there. Almost . . ._

"Sam!"

I cringe and turn to find a grinning Kiba approaching. _Mission status: failed._ I give him a weary sigh. "Oh, hey, Kiba. Some party, eh?"

He nods enthusiastically. "Yeah, it's great." He runs a hand through is hair. "I was wondering, actually, if you might want to dance with me?"

Ah, the fated question. I do my best to sound apologetic. "I don't know how," I tell him. Well, maybe I do, but not the sort of dancing they do in this world. I'm pretty sure of that.

Kiba waves a hand dismissively. "Aw, it's easy. I'll teach you."

"Well, I -- uh . . ." I try to stall -- to find some way out. _Someone help me!_

Almost as if answering my silent plea, I feel someone step up behind me and a soft yet strong voice says, "Hello, Sam. It's good to see you're well."

The Inuzuka seems to tense as I turn and crane my neck to smile up at Juugo. "You too, big guy. How're you doing? Your anger management sessions helping?"

Juugo cocks his head slightly. "Lady Tsunade has been a great help."

I nod, still grinning with a slight touch of triumph. "That's good."

Behind me, Kiba gives a short cough, and I return my attention to him. "I'll, uh, just catch you later, then, eh?" the dog-boy says coolly, giving a wave of his clawed hand. After glancing at Juugo, he vanishes back into the party-goers.

Once he's gone, I breathe a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Juugo."

He nods, rumbling, "Any time." A faint smile actually touches his lips.

Grinning back, I return with Juugo to his previous corner of the club. There, I sink into a chair and watch the activity. No few times, I catch Kiba looking my way. I heave a weary sigh. "Just kill me now."

Juugo gives me an alarmed look. "What?"

I hastily wave my hands. "It's just a figure of speech. I didn't mean it literally."

"Oh," he sighs. "Good." I drop my hands to my lap as he studies me for a moment. "What did you mean, then?"

I bite my lip in thought before answering carefully. "I'm at my wit's end with the guy. He just – he confuses me. I don't know whether I want to kiss him, blow him off, or just strangle him." I mime the last option using my cup as a replacement for his neck and nearly splashing myself with punch. Though I manage to rescue my clothes, it does slosh out over my hands, and as I'm cleaning them off with a napkin, Juugo speaks again.

"Goosfraba," he says as-a-matter-of-factly.

I stop and give him a questioning look. He doesn't appear to be upset, so why . . . ? Juugo gives a small, knowing smile. "Remember, Sam. Goosfraba."

Realization strikes me, and I giggle, looking back at the party. "Right. Goosfraba."


	2. The Desk

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the _Naruto_ characters or places. I only own the characters from Earth/our world. Even then, they are based on actual friends of mine. By this time, though, I think it's safe to say that they've developed into characters of their own.

**Author's Note**: Here's another little short, though, really, it's about as long as a regular chapter. You'll probably recognize the basis of the scene, though it's told from a different point of view. It was interesting and fun writing someone else's point of view other than the girls, but I guess it's good practice for certain chapters of _Fangrlz II_. It made me giggle as I was writing it, so I hope you all enjoy it as well.

Chapter 34.2: The Desk

GAARA

As soon as I step into my office, I realize that something is . . . off. I pause in the doorway, casting my eyes about the small room. Nothing appears to be out of place, but the nagging feeling remains. The corners of my mouth pull slightly downward in frustration. I never thought I would see the day that I actually missed the demon that had once shared my body, but one of those moments has crept up on me.

Shukaku had somehow been able to sense when someone was nearby -- they were prey after all -- and without him, I feel as if I have lost one of my senses. It had been a startling realization when I discovered how much I actually depended on that monstrosity, but I have slowly been rebuilding my power. Though I doubt it will ever be as quick to react -- or as immediate -- I have regained control over sand. Still, though, I am yet to fully retrain my extra senses -- senses that I had not needed to train due to Shukaku's influence.

A scorpion scuttles across the floor and I flick my wrist lazily. Sand streams from the small gourde at my hip, sweeping the stinging creature out of my office. There is an abnormal amount of scorpions about today -- mainly in the near vicinity of my brother. I suspect foul play, and Kankuro seems to agree. The one thing he cannot seem to do, however, is to get rid of the never-ending supply of scorpions flocking to him. As soon as he dispatches one, two more take its place. He has already taken two baths in an attempt to wash himself of whatever might be attracting the creatures, but to no avail.

Shaking my head, I return the sand to the gourde, close the door, and walk over to my desk. I have taken to carrying around this small flask of sand so I am not without my chosen weapon when it is not convenient to carry about the giant container. As much as Baki argues that it will build my strength, I do not feel like lugging that thing around all day. I do not care what he says. I am the Kazekage. He is not. The giant gourde stays in my room.

I pull out my chair and move to sit down, but freeze in mid-action. Blinking, I stare down at the figure huddled under my desk. Looking rather sheepish, Kaitlyn smiles back up at me. I glance around my office -- yes, it is my office -- and then back down at the young woman. She is still there. I resist the childish urge to poke her just to make sure she really _is_ there, instead choosing to cock my head to one side.

This was the last thing I expected to find, to be honest, when I felt that something was off. Apparently, that feeling originated from the fact that there is a girl hiding -- for surely that is what she is doing -- in the space my legs would be if she was not present. I blink at her, my previous thoughts derailed by her appearance in such . . . an unorthodox place. Finally, I speak, opting to make a simple observation aloud. "You're under my desk."

Kaitlyn's cheeks color slightly as she gives a nervous-sounding laugh. "Umm, yeah?"

I study her for a moment, noting as the blush darkens pleasantly beneath my scrutiny. Though I probably already know the answer to the question, I ask, "Why?"

Grimacing slightly, the blonde somehow manages to contort herself in that small space in order to scratch the back of her head sheepishly. "Well, you know how Kankuro's being stalked by scorpions?" Stalked. I have not thought of it that way. It is definitely an interesting outlook on the situation -- and true at that. I nod.

"That's kind of my fault," Kaitlyn continues. "I put some of that hormone stuff in his face paint." She laughs weakly.

Foul play indeed. If I had eyebrows, I might arch them as I have seen others do with theirs. Would that not make my face more expressive? Unfortunately, I do not have the necessary facial hair, and my expression remains neutral as I mull over her confession. It would definitely explain a few things except . . . . "Why?"

I watch as Kaitlyn's mouth twists slightly with the effort to keep her laughter in. That is puzzling. Did I say something amusing? Managing to keep her composure, she replies, "He dyed my hair green."

"Ah," I murmur thoughtfully. "Temari told me about that." Indeed, I can still see traces of the odd color in Kaitlyn's hair.

Ah, yes. The "Prank War". I had forgotten about the pseudo-conflict that had been declared not too long ago between Kankuro and Kaitlyn. That would explain why Kankuro is absolutely certain that the scorpion fiasco was someone's fault and not just some random act of nature. In fact, I do not doubt that he knows _exactly_ who is responsible for "that hormone stuff", as Kaitlyn described it.

Which would explain why she is currently hiding under my desk -- hiding from _him._

"Sh-she did?" Kaitlyn stammers, drawing me back from my thoughts. Her cheeks are now a very dark shade of red, her cerulean eyes wide with horror.

Bobbing my head slightly, I grace her with a simple answer. "Yes."

Her shoulders slump, and suddenly Kaitlyn looks very small down there. Vulnerable too. My eyelids drop slightly. Does she really think it is so horrible that I am knowledgeable of the event -- even if I never saw her first-hand? I do believe she was adamantly avoiding me that day, but did she really think I would not find out. I am the Kazekage. It is my job to know of all the goings-on in my village not to mention my _building_.

Chewing on her lower lip, Kaitlyn lifts her gaze to peer up at me once more. "You're not angry with me, are you -- for pranking Kankuro?" she asks, her eyes searching mine for something. Her voice takes a near panicky edge. "You won't tell him I'm here, will you? Please? I don't want him to find me."

I see. So she is worried that I will hand her over to the mercy of my older brother. For some reason, this troubles me. Kankuro is obviously furious with her over this particular "prank", and will very likely tear her apart as soon as he gets his hands on her if that comes to pass before he has the chance to settle down. At a time like this, his mercy is non-existent. Does she think me so cruel?

For a long moment, I study her, and it becomes clear that she does not know quite what to think of me. I find this interesting, especially considering how much she knows of me -- how much she claims to like me. That emotion in itself -- her affection -- is certainly puzzling. In current times, fan girls are in no short supply among my shinobi ranks, but I have only recently earned their affection. Had I approached them in the past, instead of squealing and fawning over me in a rather annoying fashion, they would run screaming.

Kaitlyn, however, claims to have liked me from the start -- even with all the blood and gore -- with the demon inside of me eating my sanity away. Kankuro scoffed at the idea, though I know he meant men no offense. He probably thinks it is a lie she is using to get close to me, but I can see nothing but honesty in her eyes. In fact, I have witnessed her attempt at deceit, and she is rather incapable of it. If she was lying about her affection, I would know, and I do know. She speaks the truth.

So, if she cares for me -- trusts me -- then why is she afraid that I would hand her over to Kankuro? She shifts uneasily beneath my gaze and I realize that it is perhaps due to the fact that she might very well think that she has overstepped some boundary. She _is_ hiding under my desk, after all. If one of my guards had found her instead of me -- and why had they not? -- then Kaitlyn would no doubt be in a grand heap of trouble.

Making a mental note to discuss the security of my office, I finally formulate my reply. "You may stay," I tell her carefully, "as long as you don't do anything from now on that might get you into trouble."

Kaitlyn's eyes lit up happily, and for a moment, she seems to forget her predicament. "Thank you!" she exclaims.

I cock my head as -- barely seconds later -- a loud rap comes at my door. Kaitlyn's eyes widen and she slaps her hands over her mouth. Without speaking a word to her, I sink down into my chair and slide it forward. Kaitlyn quickly flattens herself as much as she can out of the way of my knees. Careful not to glance down at her, I call, "Come in."

Kankuro bursts in -- of course. His eyes dart around the room, alert and searching for any sign of the girl currently under my desk. I deftly allow my chakra to swell ever so slightly and envelop Kaitlyn's signature, hiding it from Kankuro's trained senses. Puppeteers, after all, were chakra experts. They had to be in order to manipulate the often-complex structures they used in battle.

"Is she in here?" my brother demands.

I level my cool gaze on him. "Who?"

"Kaitlyn!" he snaps, before seeming to remember his place and settling down slightly. "Have you seen her?" Now his tone is more respectful.

Without blinking, I answer, "No." The lie rolls smoothly off my tongue, not hinting in any way that it might in fact be false.

Kankuro seems to deflate. "Ah, I see." A scorpion scurries up the doorframe behind him and he glances back to scowl at it. "Will you let me know if you do see her?"

I very pointedly lower my gaze to the papers strewn across my desk, indicating how _busy_ I am as the Kazekage and how very _little_ time I have to be involved in his _childish_ game of hide and seek. Apparently getting the message, Kankuro bows slightly and excuses himself, vanishing out the door and closing it behind him.

At my knee, Kaitlyn lets out her held breath in a relieved sigh. "Thanks."


	3. The Desk Revisited

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the _Naruto_ characters or places. I only own the characters from Earth/our world. Even then, they are based on actual friends of mine. By this time, though, I think it's safe to say that they've developed into characters of their own.

**Author's Note:** I had so much fun writing the last Gaara-narrated scene, so I decided to give you all another quick clip while you wait for the next chapter (which is coming, don't worry). This isn't as long of a deleted scene as the last one, but it builds on it. This mini-series of scenes is dedicated (and for) any of my readers who might be wondering how Gaara became so attached to Kaitlyn. Yay for a wee bit of fluff! Just so you all know, there will be two more Gaara scenes following this side-story sort of thing to come. I hope this little bit is enough to hold you all together until next week! Enjoy!

Chapter 34.4: The Desk [Revisited]

GAARA

"Excuse me!" That short cry and a certain blue and blonde blur that accompanied it are the first signs of life from Kaitlyn that I have seen today. She ducks between myself and Temari before darting on down the hall. I blink after her in mild surprise before glancing up at my sister.

Temari shakes her head in amusement before turning her attention down the way from which Kaitlyn had come. Sure enough, Kankuro comes barreling into sight. Immediately, Temari snorts and slaps her hand over her mouth to keep herself from laughing out loud. I, of course, do nothing more than blink and once again contemplate my eyebrow-less state. Perhaps I should get something done about that. My blank stare would be much more effective, I believe, with an added eyebrow lift.

Kankuro skids to an almost comical halt at the sight of us, eyes widening in sudden realization of his predicament and cursing under his breath. Apparently, in his anger, he had forgotten _why_ he was angry. Temari lowers her hand, fighting furiously to suppress a smile. "Good morning," she greets, "though isn't it a bit early for this?"

"Blame it on the _brat_," Kankuro growls back. _It_ is the rather interesting shade of orange his skin has taken -- a shade that clashes horribly with his face paint. The fact that the paint is on at all makes me wonder if my brother looked in the mirror before putting it on.

"I see," Temari coughs. "So, what's the score?" Her eyes dance with mirth as Kankuro snarls.

"Shut up."

I blink as Kankuro turns a challenging gaze my way. He almost seems to be daring me to say something. Without speaking, I lift one arm and point down the side hallway. Giving a feral grin, my brother nods his thanks and dashes in that direction.

As soon as he is out of sight, Temari's laughter roars out. "Did you_ see_ that?"

Deeming her question to be rhetorical, I turn on my heel and stride on down the hall without comment -- in the direction that Kaitlyn has _actually_ gone -- leaving Temari to sink into a puddle of laughter. She had better pull herself together before Kankuro returns or he is going to be rather upset with her. No one likes being laughed at, I have found.

When I step into my office, I give a soft sigh and close the door. "What did you do?" I ask without preamble.

As if moving on its own, my high-backed chair pushes back a little and Kaitlyn peeks up at me over the desk. She gives a nervous giggle, "Ummm, well, I swapped his soap with self-tanning solution."

Self-tanning solution? Where does one get self-tanning solution in the desert? There is plenty of sun for everyone to get a natural tan. In fact, artificial tanning methods are highly frowned upon in the desert. It is the mark of a lazy and perhaps even weak person – one who does not venture from the cool darkness of his or her home during the heat of the day.

I have a sneaking suspicion that someone from the civilian staff assisted her in acquiring the solution. The younger, less formal generation of staff members appears to absolutely adore Kaitlyn. I have heard them on more than one occasion praising the fact that Kaitlyn's energy has brought much-needed life back to the building. I would not be surprised, though, if their approval of the girl stems from the fact that she torments the bane of the staff's existence -- Kankuro.

Though nobody has complained directly to me -- seeing as he is my brother and they do not want to offend or anger me -- I know that Kankuro is the least favorite of the 'Sand Siblings', as we have been called. He can have a rather abrasive attitude and is certainly not the most polite shinobi in Suna. Thus, it is no surprise that the staff approves of Kaitlyn's pranks on my older brother.

I have even heard rumors of the staff 'keeping score', as Temari brought up minutes earlier in the hallway. From my understanding, whenever a prank is bad enough to make the recipient snap, a point is granted to the one who pulled the prank. Whispers have even reached my ears that bets are being taken over who will 'win' the pseudo-war between the pair. The whole ordeal definitely does not bode well for my brother's temperament.

For a long moment, I study Kaitlyn -- or, rather, what I can see of her. Only her fingers and the top of her head down to the bridge of her nose can be seen peeking over the surface of the desk. With each passing moment of silence, she seems to sink lower, retreating slower to her hiding place. I blink and inquire blandly, "So, what's the score?"


	4. The Desk Reprise

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the _Naruto_ characters or places. I only own the characters from Earth/our world. Even then, they are based on actual friends of mine. By this time, though, I think it's safe to say that they've developed into characters of their own.

**Author's Note**: Okay, it's really short, but still sweet. There's one more left from this little mini-series, though I haven't finished it. That one takes place right after this one instead of several days/weeks/whatever later, so this is a sort of set-up for it. I'm about half-way done with the next chapter of Fangrlz II, so I hope to get that up soon. Maybe this little morsel will hold you all over until then. Enjoy!

Chapter 34.6: The Desk [Reprise]

GAARA

Ice cubes click lightly against the glass of my cup as I lift it to my lips and take a sip of the faintly fruity liquid. It sends a pleasant chill down my throat to combat the heat of the day. Even inside, I can feel the pounding weight of the sun. On several occasions, Temari has suggested that I remove my layer of sand-skin when inside the Kazekage building. Tempting as it is, I do not feel comfortable without that layer of protection. She argues that the layer itself is what makes me _un_comfortable otherwise, but again, I point out the obvious. I am the Kazekage. She is not. The sand-skin stays.

Setting the glass down, I return my attention to the paperwork laid out before me. Mission reports, queries from the Research and Development department concerning their funding, pointed letters from the council concerning my still-single status, and countless other documents that require my signature litter the surface of my desk. It is during moments like this one that I understand the Hokage's love for sake. I detest the stuff, however, especially since it is served heated. One does not need a hot drink in the blazing heat of the desert.

Hurried footsteps mark the rapid approach of someone with a rather familiar chakra signature. I do not bother to shift my eyes from the documents before me when the door bursts open and then closed again. A relieved sigh sounds from that direction, and I greet my visitor with a soft, "Good afternoon."

At the sound of her sharp "eep", I lift my gaze to look at her. Kaitlyn stands frozen in mid-step, staring at me as if I have appeared from nowhere. "Umm, hi?" she replies uncertainly. Without breaking my stare from hers, I grab my drink and lift it once more to my mouth. The silence stretches onward until Kaitlyn glances nervously to the door and then back at me. "Er . . ."

"You're lucky I wasn't in a meeting," I comment mildly.

"Y-yeah, um, sorry?"

The bellowing voice of my brother echoes from elsewhere in the building, making Kaitlyn jump and then cringe. A small sigh escapes my lips. "Do I even want to know what you did this time?" in inquire blandly.

The blonde girl gives a weak laugh. "Probably not," she admits.

We continue to stare at each other, neither one making a move as Kankuro's blazing chakra signature draws closer to my office. Kaitlyn seems to sense this, for she is the one to break our gaze to send another anxious look at the door behind her. Blinking slowly, I return my eyes to the paperwork on my desk as I scoot my chair back.

I can feel Kaitlyn's attention -- curious now -- return to me, though she does not move. I glance up at her through the tops of my eyes, not lifting my head. "Are you coming or not?"

Kaitlyn's lips leap into a wide grin as she rushes forward to claim her favorite hiding spot.


	5. The Desk Realization

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the _Naruto_ characters or places. I only own the characters from Earth/our world. Even then, they are based on actual friends of mine. By this time, though, I think it's safe to say that they've developed into characters of their own.

**Author's Note**: Pure and total fluff. That's all I have to say about this deleted scene. Well, maybe that's not _all_ I have to say. It does explain a few questions floating out there -- namely "Why does Gaara react as he does when Kaitlyn is kidnapped?" and "What made him _care_ so much about her?" Well, here is your answer, the final installment of my mini-story entitled "The Desk". It took me a little while to write this so that it felt _right_ to me, especially with Gaara narrating. He's not exactly the fluffy, sappy type, after all. I wanted this to do them both justice, you know? I hope this bit of pure and total fluff carries you all on until the next chapter of _Fangrlz II_. It is in the making, I promise. As I said before, Neji's narrating, so I want to get him right, as well, and the fact that my Software Construction teacher gave us a programming project to do over Spring Break, so I didn't get ANY writing done like I wanted to . . . ah, well. The weekend is here, and I have high hopes . . . without further ranting, I give you . . . FLUFF! Enjoy!

Chapter 34.8: The Desk [Realization]

GAARA

Setting my brush down, I stretch my fingers and glance up at the clock on the wall. The numbers indicated by the thin arms almost surprise me. Is it that late already? My eyes flick to the dark window. I had not noticed any change in the lighting due to the sandstorm that has been raging almost all day. When it is dark anyway, how does one note the setting of the sun? The answer is simple enough. They do not.

Movement beneath my desk draws my attention, and I lower my gaze. Kaitlyn shifts, murmuring wordlessly in her sleep. Her head rests against my knee, hands tucked under her chin and knees folded almost to her chest. She looks so small down there, and I marvel how she managed to fall asleep in such an odd position. There is no way that can be comfortable.

I place a hand on her head. "Kaitlyn." She shifts again ever so slightly and mumbles something about a panda? Frowning slightly, I move my hand to her shoulder and gently shake it, speaking a little louder. "Kaitlyn."

This time, her words are a bit more understandable. "Go away, Nick."

I blink, and my frown deepens. Nick? Who is this Nick? More importantly, why would she mistake me for him -- if it is indeed a boy? It sounds like a male name. I peer down at her and she continues to sleep, apparently thinking that this 'Nick' has gone away. Sighing, I sit back and contemplate my position.

Kaitlyn is asleep and apparently wishes to stay that way. It certainly would not be healthy for her to remain in such a position all night, however. She has to be moved, but how do I get her out of there without waking her up? I run various scenarios through my head, but none of them end with success. Too much can go wrong. The wrong shift of weight can mean hitting her head on the desk or even falling over due to an imbalance of that weight -- or, Kami forbid, dropping her.

Sighing softly in resignation, I reach down a hand to rouse her. Waking her will not be too bad, I suppose. When people are awoken from such comfortable sleep, they are often groggy and incoherent. I can easily guide her to her own room and bed and she will return to sleep as if it never happened. She probably will not even remember such a sleep-walk. As my hand hovers over her head, however, an odd sensation grips me, and I hesitate to puzzle over it.

What is it -- this weight on my chest -- this tightening of my stomach? Premature guilt for disturbing such a peaceful -- if odd -- sleep? I frown ever so slightly, returning my hand to my lap and considering the blonde beneath my desk. I cannot bring myself to rouse her. Curious. Apparently, I must seek out some other option, but what?

My eyes roam the room as if seeking out assistance, eventually falling on the large gourd beside my desk. Hmmm, why did I not think of that before? Usually, it remains in my personal quarters, but I was training earlier and did not have the time to return it there. I had actually forgotten about its presence. The situation requires a delicate touch, I suppose -- precise movements. Surely my sand can handle the task. I flick my wrist and the thick cork pops out of the top of the gourd, allowing sand to flow almost lazily out with a faint hiss. Following the slight movements of my hand and fingers, my sand rises out of its container and winds about the desk, finding every miniscule nook and cranny in the wood and latching on to it firmly.

Ever so slowly, I direct the sand to lift the desk away from us as carefully as possible. Kaitlyn hardly shifts as her little cubbyhole disappears from around her, and once it is clear, I bend over, gathering the sleeping girl into my arms and lifting her from the floor. She mumbles incoherent syllables in her slumber as she curls into my chest, hands gripping my official Kazekage robes almost like a young child grasping her favorite blanket. My lips quirk slightly, and I move out of the way of the hovering desk as my sand lowers it back into place before retreating back into the gourd in an almost serpentine fashion.

I hate thinking of my sand as anything snake-like, despite how the grainy tendrils resemble those elongated reptiles. Snakes hold a dark place in my hardened heart after all that was done to my people by that traitorous Sannin Orochimaru. There is nothing lower than a snake's belly – nothing dirtier or viler than a snake.

After glancing down at Kaitlyn to be sure she still slumbers, I begin the short journey to deliver her to her room, grateful for one of my more loyal and . . . generous ANBU that appears to open my office door for me. After nodding to him, I start walking slowly down the hall, stepping carefully with every ounce of shinobi grace I have so as to avoid jarring Kaitlyn from her sleep. The guards stationed periodically down the hallway glance at us curiously, but I either refuse to meet their gaze or -- in the case of one that out-right stares -- glare them down rather defiantly, as if challenging them to make any comment on the matter.

When I arrive at my destination, I encounter another obstacle. Kaitlyn's door is closed, and Kaitlyn herself is occupying my hands. I glance around with a faint frown, finding the hallway empty of helpers. Where is that ANBU? Perhaps he is not as generous as I thought, waiting to see what I will do. With a slight scoff, I turn to my previous solution: sand.

Focusing my chakra, I direct the sand from the smaller gourd on my hip to stream out and open the offending door to allow me entrance. I slip in quietly, being extra careful not to bump any part of my charge against the door or frame. That would not be happily received. Her room is a bit cluttered, but not nearly as bad as Kankuro's. _No one_ can have a room as bad as Kankuro's, and if I have survived years of living with _that_, then a little bit of clutter does not bother me at all.

I step carefully across the floor to Kaitlyn's bed, gently laying her down. When I attempt to straighten, however, I find resistance in the form of her hands still clutching my robe. I let out a small sigh, lips quirking slightly as I attempt to pry open her fingers without awakening her. To my slight frustration, they hold fast, and I find myself in another dilemma. I rest my hands on either side of her to take some of my weight as I mull over possible solutions.

I cannot wake her up, as my gut told me earlier, and I most _certainly_ cannot remain here with her for the night. As I lean over her, though, studying her peaceful face in slumber, something inside of me seems to melt and wonder why not. I _am_ the Kazekage, after all. I can do what I want, and if I want to, I _can_ stay here with her, but no. I shake my head free of that errant thought. I cannot; it would not be proper. So, instead, I surrender my outer robe to her iron grasp. It takes some finagling to free myself from the cloth without disturbing her, but I manage it. I spread the discarded robe over her like a blanket before straightening, much to the relief of my back.

Kaitlyn shifts and I freeze, fearing that I have awoken her after all -- despite all of my attempts to do quite the opposite. However, she merely rolls onto her side, pulling up on the robe and practically curling around it, looking even more like a young child with her favorite blanket. She draws a deep breath and lets it out slowly, seeming to sink even deeper into the realm of sleep with a small sigh that sound suspiciously like 'panda'.

I feel my lips quirk again, and -- almost against my will -- my hand reaches out to gently brush the hair from her face. A content smile claims Kaitlyn's face as my fingertips ghost across her skin, and she murmurs something before falling silent and still once more. My heart skips a beat, and I feel once more as if I have been discovered, but she still does not wake -- despite having just spoken my name. What does that mean, then? Is she dreaming of me?

Something warm blossoms in my chest at that thought -- something strange and utterly alien to me. It sends an errant flutter though my heart and makes my stomach curl into not-so-unpleasant knots. Katilyn is thinking of me -- dreaming of me -- and judging by the smile on her face, it is far from being the nightmares that would haunt most of those around me -- those that have known me for most of my life as a monster. That sigh -- that smile -- they were for me. _Me_. I feel as if I am floating as I slowly move away from her, backing toward the door -- unable to tear my gaze from the slumbering girl -- the sleeping angel.

As I reach the door and finally turn away, however, something tugs at my senses -- my chakra. My gaze strays back to Kaitlyn. What now? She still sleeps; nothing appears wrong. What, then, was that tug? I move again, only to feel the same sensation. This time, I trace it to its source, only to stand dumbfounded. My chakra has cocooned itself around Kaitlyn, mingling with and masking her own chakra with a small stream connecting her to me. Confusion sweeps through me. When did that happen?

I wrack my brain, trying to remember when I had crafted that protective cocoon. The only connection my thoughts make reaches back to the first time Kaitlyn had sought refuge from Kankuro under my desk. I had veiled her chakra from the puppeteer with my own in an effort to hide and protect her from his wrath. As far as I can remember, though, I have not consciously done that since then, which can only mean . . . my chakra had reacted on its own to her proximity to me -- subconsciously reaching out to protect her almost possessively. That tug was it warning me that I was exiting the proximity required to maintain that cocoon of protection.

Still somewhat confused, I stand in the doorway and carefully begin to untangle my chakra from hers, drawing it back into myself. Only when the task is completed, I realize that I can sense her chakra again. I had not noticed its absence when she had been so close to me. Her chakra had merely felt like an extension of my own, a comfortable coexistence that I had hardly acknowledge at all -- _if_ at all. Curious.

I remain in place, slightly dazed by the discovery and at a total loss for what it might mean. So many questions roam my head, and the odd warmth in my chest only seems to intensify. I feel . . . drunk, for a lack of anything else to compare the sensation to -- a feeling I have only encountered once before at the incessant prodding of my brother. That had been an unpleasant sort of feeling, however, whereas this one . . . I cannot quite place.

A clock chimes in the distance, and I count the tones, somewhat startled to discover that over an hour has passed since I first checked the time in my office. I shake myself free of the stupor and slip out of Kaitlyn's room, closing her door quietly behind me. The warm feeling has faded somewhat, though it still remains, hovering in the center of my chest like a faint echo of the flame it had once been. My thoughts continue to churn, but they too have seemed to calm somewhat, though one rises and remains in the forefront of my mind, reminding me of a certain letter on my desk from the council.

As my feet carry me back toward my office, I realize that I have an answer for them.


End file.
